


Say Goodbye to Broadway

by splash_the_cat



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-02
Updated: 2006-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1844560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splash_the_cat/pseuds/splash_the_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You were singing... well, yelling," Daniel says before she can question the rude awakening. "Loudly."</p><p>"About what?"</p><p>"Something about the sun in your heart and being ready for love." Daniel's brow furrows, and his nose wrinkles, and Sam takes that as less-than-complimentary commentary on her vocal stylings. "I thought you were delirious."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Goodbye to Broadway

**Author's Note:**

> Another ficlet request. This one is for elis, who asked for Martouf and an umbrella.
> 
> So. Martouf. Umbrella. S7. No spoilers. Song!fic, sort of.

 

Sam's eyes snap open to find Daniel's inches away, red-rimmed and bleary, and he's shaking her shoulder - a jerky back and forth that grinds the joint and sloshes her already queasy stomach. She rolls away from him before she throws up on him, the floor hard against her hip when she comes to rest against a damp stone wall. Negotiations with the people of PCZ-295. Things had not gone well.

"You were singing... well, yelling," Daniel says before she can question the rude awakening. "Loudly."

"About what?"

"Something about the sun in your heart and being ready for love." Daniel's brow furrows, and his nose wrinkles, and Sam takes that as less-than-complimentary commentary on her vocal stylings. "I thought you were delirious."

Maybe she was. The guards had separated them early on in their imprisonment. They held her down in a tiny room, and smeared a foul, bitter paste across her tongue. It made her see colors and nebulous shapes writhe in the walls, and later, when the colors started to sink into her skin, the shapes lost their blurred edges and sharpened into a riot of faces and places: her tenth-grade chemistry teacher with glowing eyes; a Shavadi tent striped like a circus big top, complete with trapeze artists and three rings of elephant acts; the control room, all its computer screens displaying Pac-Man; Martouf and his big teeth skipping across a rain-slicked Broadway street, swinging around a lamp-post and brandishing an umbrella.

Crawling to a corner of the cell, she empties her stomach. "The Colonel and Teal'c?" She wipes her mouth on her sleeve and scoots back across the floor to huddle next to Daniel.

"Haven't appeared yet." He sags against her, head flopping onto her shoulder. "I woke up in here, and then they brought you in about an hour ago."

"I don't think they liked my singing either."

His chuckle ruffles her hair and she has to turn away a little - his breath reeks of the paste, and her stomach roils again. "So, did you spill any state secrets?"

"I think I recited a chapter of my dissertation, so if they can use a renegotiation of Budge's translation of the Book of the Dead, then yes, we're all in big trouble."

Sam breathes out a laugh, letting the lethargy hovering at the edge of her awareness creep in. Her eyeslids droop; flashes of color and motion flit against them, a psychedelic private screening. Martouf dances into view, leaping and spinning his umbrella. "I'm laughing at clouds; So dark up above; The sun's in my heart and I'm ready for love."

"Sam?"

"Hmm?" She starts a little, angles her head until she can see Daniel peering up at her.

"Don't quit your day job."


End file.
